Ahsoka the Redeemer
by maginot's ink
Summary: Fulcrum, aka Ahsoka Tano, is abandoned by the Rebels on Malachor to the tender mercies of Darth Vader. Or is he at her mercy? Pre-Rogue One Vader Redemption Story
1. Malachor

Malachor Chapter 1

"…I won't leave you. Not this time." Said the resolute Commander Ahsoka Tano of the Rebel Alliance, with a face containing equal measures of love, disappointment, and defiant hope.

Something about that face triggered a memory in Vader. Later, he would never be able to swear exactly what he remembered or what exactly had caused him to pause. But pause he did. Looking into eyes which looked at him only with concern and affection, the helmeted Dark Lord lowered his lightsaber.

"Do you know what I have done?" sneered Vader. "Do you know how many of your rebel friends I have killed?"

The Togruta did not rise to the bait. "Master, war does terrible thing to people. Given time it warps even basic realities like love and hate or right and wrong."

"Pity!" spat Vader. "That's all you have to offer me? Hate me for the wrongs I have done. It will make you powerful."

"I don't need that kind of power and I never have." Commander Tano said as she sank to the floor of the pyramid into a position reminiscent of old Jedi meditative poses.

"I have slain helpless jedi younglings for nothing more than the promise of the life of another! I have overthrown democratic government for a manipulative master! I live a life of giving and taking fear and anger and hate. Even your basic sense of justice must be crying out for my death. Pick up your weapon! FIGHT ME!" Cried the Sith Lord in a voice reverberating half through the helmet and half through his own natural voicebox, punctuated only by the wheezing of breath.

"Only if I condemn myself could I do that." Said the seated Togruta. "I left you alone with the galaxy ablaze and selfishly turned away from duty and friends. Then I fought and stole like a common thief. The little lies that I tell myself to justify theft, deceit, dishonor, and ambush pile up. I did not come to the Rebellion to fight you but for atonement and a greater good."

A spark of anger and self-loathing flared, both in the Dark Lord's unhelmeted eye and his Force presence. On the edges of his consciousness hounded memories of guilt and love, kept at bay, seemingly, only by the harsh ozone and buzzing of the violently red lightsaber.

As if the Dark Lord hoped to banish his problems away, he viciously swung his lightsaber in a sideways strike at his seated opponent's head. The Togruta, still seated, interdicted the swipe inches from her head with a previously unlit lightsaber. "Temper, temper, Master" she said with a trace of old teasing which was way out of place compared to the nearly mortal blow.

The unexpected resistance, from a position of weakness, cause the weakened, injured, and wheezing Dark Lord to topple over. Physically tripping over him, he fell sideways to the floor and hit the undamaged cheek of his helmet against the marbled floor of the Sith Temple.

"I guess you've gotten a little rusty and out of balance without me to keep you in shape." The Rebel Commander said with an increasing amount of humor. For a fleeting moment, Vader counted that the toothy grin his former Padawan was displaying was the first smile he had seen, other than the Emperor's pale grimace, since before his wife had died.

Lying helplessly on the floor, for the moment, his bared naked eye glared up at the seated Togruta with a sharp frown as he said "When I kill you, I shall carve that grin out of your head and make you eat each one of those teeth as you beg for your own impending death."

"Well, I can understand jealously about eating as I'll bet you haven't eaten a proper meal in that suit in a long time." Said Commander Tano seemingly unfazed by the explicit death threat.

The Dark Lord tried to rise, but between injury and the smooth marbled floor he could not find a purchase point. With another crashing clang his helmeted cheek once again hit the floor.

"Wow Master, hard-headed much?" The young woman was now unabashedly flashing a smile of humor and understanding.

Moving past his physical inability, the Dark Lord tried to grasp the words that his former Padawan had offered him, "So what, you think your soul is as tarnished as mine? You still shine a bright white light in the Force. Almost as much as our more self-righteous…former colleagues." The Dark Lord's unhelmeted brow crinkled just a little bit as he winced at his own attempt to be verbally delicate. The wince redoubled when he saw his former Padawan's face pinch just a little bit at the awkward allusion to the slaughtered Jedi.

"I wouldn't know about the others. I gave them up as useless when I left the order. My only regret was giving up your friendship. The rest had left to me rot in the machinations of the Republic. To you, I owe a debt and more. To hell with the others." The rebel Commander took a more serious tone.

"But then what," wheezed the Dark Lord as he gasped for breath, "would cause you to abandon obscurity and take up arms again."

"I condemn the cowards of the old order and the corruption of the Republic that made the farce possible, not the innocents across the galaxy. The ones we fought to protect. The ones who may have been better off under the Seps after all." Ahsoka said as she scooted closer to the Dark Lord.

"Don't worry of that," said Vader "years of investigation and accessing files and evidence have finally proven that the Chancellor was controlling both sides—Dooku and the Republic."

"You're still chasing a twenty year old investigation?" Ahsoka asked.

"What would you do to keep sane as a busy mass-murderer?" Vader asked.

Recognizing a slight lilt in the voice, and a small flare in the Force, Ahsoka recognized her old master's wry humor. "So where do we go from here?" she asked.

The Dark Lord laid out candidly, "In less than five minutes my suit diagnostics will be done and it will be restored to minimal functionality. I am under orders from the Emperor to kill you. I had also hoped to study this mysteries of this temple before that hasty little cretin of yours started its collapse. Eventually I must dig my way out to my fighter on the surface, or my command ship in orbit will send out a rescue party. I assume that you have four and a half minutes to kill me, or I will kill you."

"Weren't you listening? I don't wish to do either."

"Then" **cough** "tell me how this story goes." Said the Dark Lord.

"I heal you here using the Force. Then I take you with me to Mon Calamari and we crack out out of that suit like a gree worm, fix you up with state-of-the-art prosthetics and then give you the freedom of choice. I honestly think the Emperor deliberately gave you substandard medical treatment and has let you limp on in these barbaric prosthetics to keep you a prisoner. Go light, go dark, go grey, or just go screw—your decision. Unhampered by notoriety, fame, obligations to Empire or Order. The same clean slate I got." Ashoka said.

"I could play you false or kill you." Mused the Dark Lord as he stomach churned at the unconfirmed idea that he had, yet again, badly been deceived by the Emperor.

"You could. But you won't. You may be a ruthless psychopathic killer, but even the feared Vader has never gotten a reputation as deceitful or a liar, excluding _ruse de' guerre_." Ahsoka said in a low undertone.

"I cannot take a clean slate. I have a prophecy, an Emperor, a legion of Imperial forces, and repressed Jedi and rebels all out for me." Vader said, almost as a man simply tired.

"Running away from obligations can be refreshing. It certainly clarifies what's important and what isn't. Besides, I came back to galactic warfare, it's a sword you can pick up anytime. Even if a clean slate lasts only a few months or a year, what do you risk and how much better would it be than your current life?" The persistent Padawan pressed.

"Ahsoka" he sadly intoned her name for the first time "you cannot deliver that. If nothing else, your ride has already left and mine is a closely watched Imperial force."

"Well, I could heal you and you could live out your days here with me, as my sex slave." Ahsoka lamely joked while waggling her eyebrows in an exaggeratedly sexy manner. "We'll figure it out Master. Resolve to win, then find how. Isn't that…"

"Lesson number 58 of being a successful Jedi. Yes. I know. That was pompous. And awful. And puffed up. I became a better teacher after that. I hope." The Dark Lord groaned.

The Rebel Commander giggled like the carefree teenager she had once been.

Vader growled at Ahsoka, "Go Snips. I have welcomed the dark side in. I have killed and tortured. I have a dark side force-bond with the Emperor. I am beyond redemption. I was to balance the Force and instead drove it into a flourishing dark abyss. Even now, it seeps back into my presence and my very soul. If you stay any longer I cannot guarantee that I won't hurt you."

"You really _don'_ t listen well, do you?" Ahsoka chastised. "I'm not leaving you again Master. More importantly, Master Plo said redemption could come to anyone. He also said that redemption was not the same as forgiveness."

Vader wheezed, more prominently, "I hadn't thought of ol' Bubblehead in years. He *cough* was almost as bad as Yoda with the platitudes. I do not see the point Snips. You will leave or you will die. I will be drawn back to the path already laid out for me, by chains of the dark side which I have never been able to break."

"Then trust me" implored the rebel Commander, "let me figure out the way. Just close your eyes and say yes."

"This is why the Order fell Snips. They did not understand. The darkness taints. Once introduced it seeps in and knaws at your very bones. It twists your judgment. It is sated only by suffering and only temporarily. It always draws you back."

"Then tell me." Ahsoka said defiantly.

"We, no _you_ , do not have that time. Take my starter key to the Tie Advanced—it has a specialty hyperdrive. Go Snips."

"Tell me" the stubborn Togruta demanded.

"The darkness is now a part of me. Like my nose or hair. It must be sated. If being a Jedi was walking a tightrope, then falling and getting back on the rope is ten times as hard because now you carry a weight. I have never understood how either our historical predecessors or contemporaries have ever managed to come back to the light. There is a reason well-read jedi like **Kenobi** believe it impossible and treat the darkness like an incurable disease requiring termination of the patient." The Dark Lord, despite his injury, sneered as he ground out his former master's name hatefully.

"Master Kenobi didn't know everything. He was wrong about condemning me. Only you had faith. Give me a little faith now." Implored Ahsoka.

"I would if I could Snips. I suspect it is worse for me. I have battled the darkness as it clawed to me subtlely for years during the War, Snips. The **Cough** Order never thought to realize that their Chosen One, to balance the Force, must taste darkness. They should have prepared me for the darkness. The Jedi Shadows used to be given resiliency training due to their proximity and the grey type acts and choices they make." The Dark Lord spoke, hoping to impart one more lesson to his only remaining friend in the universe. "The darkness is a madness. You do not see clearly. Even the reasons that turn you dark turn to ash, be they reasons of high principle or low ambition."

"Master you did not listen to Yoda. It will 'dominate your destiny forever' but that is not an implacable absolute. Determination can sit you back on the tightrope. Plenty of historical Jedi, much less the Chosen One, have been redeemed. Ulic Qel-Droma. Revan and Bastila. The Exile. Atris. Others still have simply walked a grey path marked by acts of darkness." The stubborn Togruta imparted. She could feel a sharp flare of hope in her Master's force presence.

"How did my Snippy little Padawan learn such things? You were always intelligent but never so studious about books and histories."

"Realizing my Master was alive but dark, moved me to research any possible way of saving him. I am still looking for an ancient holocron by Master Shim to complete my knowledge." Ahsoka said.

"A long-term researched plan rushed to operation half-finished? You haven't changed much…"

"Better than no plan at all. I am an improvement over the previous generation" Ahsoka interjected with an obvious humorous poke at her former master.

"My Stormtroopers will be here shortly to find me. My suit diagnostics say I will be capable of standing in 2.3 minutes, but I will not be able to claw my way out the rubble to my Tie Advanced."

"Then you will have to take me prisoner and come for me once you're healed." Ahsoka spoke as a simple truth.

"You take a great risk Snips. You never liked playing submissive undercover roles, like Zygerra. I may be dark. You put yourself in my power, but even I do not trust my own darkness. I may not be able to block interrogators or torture while I heal. The only thing I can guarantee is your life, and only assuming the darkness does not take me."

"Let us prepare then. You said you have a bond with the Emperor. Let us reopen and reaffirm your bond with me. The balance of bonds may be the only balanced thing the Chosen One has ever seen, excepting that stripper who would balance her dancing act on the hood of his illegal podracer." Teased Ashoka.

"How did you see know about that?" A small glimpse of Anakin's old privacy and vanity poked through the armor.

"I was there." Said Snips. "You'll have to rescue me from your own detention center if you want to hear the story. For now, focus on the bond. I'm going to take off your glove and start healing you. Feel the sensation and trace it back…"

Four Hours later, a harried team of Storm Troopers digging through the rubble of the collapsed temple found an intact room with the Dark Lord, clearly worse for his fight but still standing, and a disarmed Jedi prisoner. At Lord Vader's command the prisoner was shackled and taken to solitary confinement in the rear detention block of the ISD _Conqueror_.


	2. A Star Destroyer

**Chapter II**

Summoned to Lord Vader's _sanctum sanctorum_ , Lt. Commander Rayfin was all but certain that he was marching toward his own doom. Rumor had it that no Imperial Command Officer, except for Stormtroopers, had ever survived more than 14 months working directly under the Dark Lord. Rumor also said that the average of those doomed officers was about 5 months. Rayfin, quietly counting out his 11th month, had updated his will and said a final goodbye to his wife already. However, duty was duty. And so the Lt. Commander marched to his death in a military fashion, with pride and few life regrets.

Steeling himself, he reached for the door chime to Vader's office. Before he could press it, a metal crack loudly cracked from the other side of the door, "Come in, Commander." Fixing an imperceptible pierce of lint off of his shoulder, Rayfin stepped into the office with a forced casualness and confidence which did not, to the Dark Lord's senses, match the fear echoing in his force presence.

"Commander, I will now give you specific orders that I want enforced to the letter. Otherwise I shall be most displeased. You will compose a short message, without specifics, and order Grand Admiral Thrawn to take up the matter of the Lothal rebels. Tell him they just escaped us here through the intervention of an old traitorous apprentice of the Emperor's. Warn him that Darth Maul was working with the Lothal rebels and they may have more allies than we had earlier guessed. Thrawn is to immediately take supervisory military command of all Imperial forces in the Sector and start suppressing the rebels in whatever manner he deems best. A copy of the report and orders are to be forwarded to the Imperial Palace on Coruscant for the Emperor's eyes only. Then you will manually shut down all communications…"

"Sir, do you mean…"

"Do not interrupt me Commander. I might entertain questions when I am finished. I may not. You will manual sever communications by having the engineering crew go EVA and physically cutting out all cables to the oscillator. You will then bring it to me, in person. With the oscillator out, you will still be able to receive messages but not transmit."

"Yes sir."

"The communications officer is to put a scrambler on all incoming messages and, without reviewing them, to provide them to either you or me personally. I want all contact outside of the ship to be impossible. I want one of the Lambda intelligence shuttles equipped with a communications intercept package and launched, to track and intercept any outgoing messages. I want our own shuttle to jam our communications. Clear?"

"Yes sir," said Rayfin, with fear giving away to puzzlement.

"You will have Stormtrooper Commander Moehler personally selected the 10 most loyal and obedient Stormtroopers to relieve the naval troopers guarding my prisoner. The Stormtroopers are ordered to keep her incommunicado, but also keep her from any harm. No interrogation. No torture. No one is to speak with the Jedi prisoner at all…"

"Is that because of their mind control powers, Sir?" Rayfin asked.

"Yes, in part. But she is a high ranking rebel. And given the ambush we suffered, I believe that the Imperial military has been infiltrated. Even the Stormtroopers are not to have contact with the prisoner. No one speaks to her but you and me. And you will not speak to her unless it is an emergency."

"Yes Sir."

"Then, you will have the Captain pick random hyperspace coordinates, close by here but away from any civilization. I want to be floating alone in the black. Before we jump to the chosen coordinates, a troop transport will be sent ahead. If they find nothing nearby and the site is clear, they will radio back with the code 'A43NE.' If the site is not suitable they will radio back 'B99PO.' If the situation is 'other' they will radio back the code 'N80AS.' If any signal but the affirmative is sent, the troop transport will head for Raxus and await further orders there."

"Yes Sir. I have the signal protocol down."

"Because of the jamming, the _Conqueror_ will not hear the signal. The three men you handpick to man the Lambda shuttle will receive the message and then break the jamming long enough to relay it to you. When we arrive at the coordinates, the navigation officer will immediately plot and program a hyperspace course for Raxus. You will also tell the Captain that he must launch two wings of TIEs as soon as we arrive, to take up a roving perimeter escort position. The TIEs should receive orders that, in the event we must make an emergency jump, they will be picked up by the ISD _Devastator_ within 48 Hours. Have the Lambda equipped with supplies which can quickly be dropped and left for the TIEs."

"Yessir."

"You have that all?"

"All of it."

"Good, also issue orders that every compartment adjacent to the rear detention cells are to be evacuated and sealed. I believe that is crew quarters for 200 and one of the Pilot's messes. Tell the pilots assigned to that hall to eat with the Bridge Crew. And the operations officer will make arrangements for hot-bunking for the 200 or so displaced crewmen,"

"Lord Vader, such crew arrangements are below your statute and notice. Are you alright….kkgh" Rayfin trailed off as he started choking as if an invisible hand was reaching for his trachea.

"Do not question me again Commander. It does not matter to you how I want to use my star destroyer, nor what security arrangements I make for our high value guest, nor how I treat the crew. Your concerns are living and dying. Isn't that right?"

"…yes, My Lord…" Rayfin rasped out.

"Good." Boomed the Dark Lord as he released his grip. "If you follow my orders you live. I will see to it. Failing to do so is a different matter… I do not throw away competence lightly, Commander. You have served me well. But I will also have obedience. And no aide of mine will make me pick between competence and obedience."

"Yessir" Rayfin trembled "Anything else, Sir?"

"I want to see the intelligence agent aboard shortly. Sinclair, I think it is. In twelve hours, have three trays of food brought here. You will be here when the food arrives."

"Yes My Lord."

"Rayfin. Serve me well these next days and I promise you that you will be recognized for it. You are dismissed."

Never in his life had Rayfin been so glad to salute, click his heels, and turn around. Out of the room, he turned right and walked 15 meters to the nearest comm panel and started issuing orders.

Imperial Intelligence Agent Sinclair was similarly nervous to be summoned by Lord Vader. Normally agents posted to ships wore their normal off-white ISB uniform and acted as political commissars, at least aboard bigger ships like Star Destroyers. However, Intelligence had felt it would antagonize Lord Vader to have a commissar on one of his personal ships so, with his permission, they had inserted one of their own onto the bridge crew, with a normal Imperial Navy Rank and uniform. In this case, the rest of the ship knew him as Senior Lieutenant Sinclair, the ship's jovial second weaponry officer and the most junior member of the bridge staff.

He had been unaware that his identity as the Intelligence Agent onboard was known to Lord Vader and his staff. Intelligence had received assurances from the Emperor himself that the Intelligence Agent could maintain his cover, be anonymous, and perform the functions demanded of him. However Rayfin's order did not ask for "Lieutentant Sinclair" but ordered "Agent Sinclair" to report at 0330 shiptime to Lord Vaders's meditation chamber, just aft of the CIC. It was a shocked and dismayed Sinclair who hastened through the ship to answer Lord Vader's summons.

The door opened with an ominous hiss before Sinclair could reach the pad. Swallowing, Sinclair stepped forward toward a large black egg which took up almost the whole room. With a different pneumatic hiss, the egg opened revealing the Dark Lord being helmeted. The chair turned 'round slowly and a voice boom "You are Sinclair, the Intelligence Agent aboard, correct?"

"Sir. I am the asst. weaponry officer."

"Agent, we have all had a long night. We have taken a high value rebel prisoner, but also revealed rebel infiltration into the ranks of the military. As a result we are taking extraordinary security precautions. I care not for your mission or your purpose here. I have not disturbed your cover. I need access to the resources that ISB possesses. Now can you help me…or not?" said the Dark Lord, injecting a most menacing tone into the last question.

"Anything I can do to help Lord Vader."

"Good. I need two things. I want two doses of the strongest truth serum that you possess onboard. Then I want you to send a classified message, through whatever means or coded signals necessary, demanding the immediate assignment of Inspector Thanoth to my command to conduct a security investigation. I've heard excellent things about him and I want him to meet me at Raxus Prime."

"My Lord. The serum I can happily provide and even administer if you wish. Thanadrine works wonders. However, My Lord, you've shut off outgoing communications…"

"Your help with administering the drug is appreciated but not required. You will put your message in code and provide it to Commander Rayfin and it will be transmitted wherever you say to whomever you say. I do not care what codes Intelligence uses nor do I have any interest in its technical communication channels. I just want the Inspector."

"Yes My Lord. Shall I provide Commander Rayfin with the drug and the dosing instructions?"

"No. You will provide the drug and instructions to Moehler, of the Stormtroopers, personally."

"Yes Sir."

"I want that message coded and within Rayfin's hands within the hour. You're dismissed Agent. I will report favorably to your superiors in due time."

"My thanks, My Lord." Said Sinclair as he nearly raced out of the chamber.

The Captain of the Conqueror was feeling irked. Not that this was a healthy thing to feel in the shadow of Lord Vader. Lord Vader was rarely interested in details, normally only looking in broad strokes with a ruthless eye toward results. This left Commodore Lafayette with a small area of concern in which he was the absolute master of his fate. Lord Vader told him to paint a fruitbowl, but how to arrange it, what fruit was in the bowl, how to paint it, and how to hold the brush were left to Lafayette.

Since the ship had rescued the Dark Lord from that accursed planet 48 hours ago, life had been turned on its head. Vader was secretively issuing orders directly to his staff and cutting everyone out of the loop. Lafayette had expected to find the Dark Lord ill-humored (a word tough to apply with any distinction to a Sith) since he had to be rescued, but this was why backup plans were put in place. Instead the Sith Lord had returned on a stretcher possessing both a captive and a new manic energy with a dark underlining.

Lafayette had essentially been replaced as Captain. Vader was issued orders of incredible detail and minutiae. He had wrested communication with the larger galaxy into his sole hand by coopting the engineering crew to physically sever the space radio interlinks. That alone was unheard of—one of the Emperor's battleships severing communications with High Command. He had ordered the details of prisoner confinement and security. He had tie pilots eating in the Bridge Crew's mess. He was summoning staff officers to his quarters or his office to issue direct face to face orders. Other than the minor freedom of picking a random piece of empty space, the Captain was now doing little more than serving as the morale officer for the ship. Deployments of individual troop transports and tie fighters were being run through Vader.

The humiliation of reporting to an aide junior to him was overwhelming when Lafayette's own fighter commander, weaponry officers, Stormtrooper commander, mess stewards, and chief engineer had seen the Dark Lord in person to receive their orders. Lafayette intended to do something about it. Not because of his rank or his ego. He had long ago sacrificed ego when serving as a Captain of Lord Vader's personal armada. However it was obvious that something important was going on. And Lafayette felt that he was a man of some skill and he was going to contribute.

Even the ship's rumor mill, normally an important source of information in navy life, had taken a decidedly different tenor. There were no leaks about what Vader was ordering. Only the apparent fact that things were happening, and being reported to the Captain in real time, was evidence of any high plan or coordination. The rumor mill was, as always, somewhat hysterical. One bit of gossip had the Dark Lord unmasking an mole who was assigned by Intelligence to keep an eye on Lord Vader. Lafayette discounted this because he still received reports from the medical bay and the mortuary. No unexpectedly dead bodies had shown up, either choked or missing limbs or which gaping holes in their chest. That pretty much ruled out any truth to the rumor that the Dark Lord had discovered an Intelligence Agent spying on him on his own ship.

Lafayette had received the regular daily report from the Chief medical officer. Only those who had served with Lord Vader for sometime could read his literal fingerprints into a medical report detailing repairs to biological prosthetics. Oddly, breathing apparatus was never reported on. However a longtime associate could read details into the insertion of a new posterior substitute electronic ligament for a right forearm.

Having raised his concerns about being in the dark to that pedantic Lt. Commander Rayfin, the Dark Lord's aide simply indicated that this was a close security operation. He had also refused Lafayette's request to see Lord Vader. The Captain was peeved.

Lafayette had, appropriately, realized that losing his temper and marching up to the Dark Lord's office was not merely a career ender, but a waste of life. That decision was a day ago, however. A day spent in blackout in the black, with no apparent mission, no heading, no orders, and no supplies. Now, more calmly, the Captain was simply going to bypass Sinclair. He knew that Rayfin had an appointment at the rear bridge comm terminal with the communications officer in 10 minutes. Which meant the little watchdog would not be standing between Lafayette and his potential doom, in the form of a 7 foot tall Sith Lord.

When Lafayette got to the Sith Lord's office, there was a guard of two Stormtroopers posted outside the office. Suspecting that his immediate plan had been fouled, he nonetheless stepped up to the guard and asked for admittance. The Stormtrooper checked with someone, by comm, before letting the Captain in Lord Vader's chambers.

The Captain could not be more thrown if he had been run over. The Dark Lord was sitting at his desk, unhelmeted, half breathing through a harmonica jutting up from the throat of his suit. His handsome visage seemed vaguely familiar to the Captain. But the Sith Lord was apparently dining with a Togruta. There were some non-humans serving on the ISD _Conqueror_ , but her rumored status as prisoner was confirmed by her attempts to eat with a fork while both hands were manacled together.

"Captain, you are the man I thought you to be. You passed the test." Said the Sith Lord, "Come in and have a seat. We have a tray for you."

"Test, My Lord?" stuttered Lafayette. "Are you alright, My Lord? You…you…"

"…are eating, out of that awful helmet, regular food and with a rakish appearance? Yes. He is," chimed in the apparent rebel prisoner.

"Impertinent as always Snips. Sit Captain. I will explain all. But first I should warn you that I expect you to eat with us, and that I have dosed your meal with truth serum."

"Yes, My Lord." Said the Captain as he shakily stepped forward and sat in the proffered chair.

"Both your meal and our prisoner's are dosed with truth serum. Not enough to compel you to unwillingly reveal secrets, but enough to ensure that only truth is spoken. Eat up while I explain some of what's going on. Do you know our prisoner?"

Lafayette, with a mouthful of **_good_** food, looked the vivacious young Togruta up and down from head to foot. He shook his head no.

"Then you are in good company. I did not recognize her at first either. Imperial Intelligence knows her only as 'Fulcrum' a high-ranking rebel courier who runs several rebel cells in the Outer Rim and even serves as handler for an unknown number of spies infiltrated into the Imperial Military."

Ahsoka jump in her chair, just a little, not knowing that the Imperials were aware of her spies at all.

"However" continued the Sith Lord, "I know her as Ahsoka Tano a former Jedi who left the order and disappeared about sixth months before the treachery and the start of the Jedi Purge."

"I though the Jedi were hunted down, My Lord. Didn't the Inquisitorious and yourself see to that?"

"We were thorough, but not exhaustive. The Inquisitor service reported to me that she was dead. Now, before we go further, can we trust you?"

"Yes sir."

"This is not just trust to follow orders Captain. We're talking about the fate of the galaxy and the Empire. I am concerned about treachery at the deepest parts of our government. A problem so deep that rebels are, pardon me Snips, but a nuisance. So who and what are you loyal too?"

"To the Empire and to you sir."

"And if the one does not follow the other?"

"Are you a rebel sir?"

The Togruta loosed a soft giggle at the Captain's question.

"Decidely not. At least not yet. But the deep treachery I am now investigating may have already pulled off a _coup d'etat_ silently, while no one was watching. We may be forces to raise weapons against fellow Imperial Soldiers, before the day is out. Can you fight for the soul of our government and the safety of its people?"

"That's why I have stormed your office sir, to follow up on my oath to serve."

"Then let me explain yet more. Do you recognize me, without the helmet?"

"Vaguely. I've seen your face before. But I'm not sure where."

"You were one of Admiral Yularen's non-clone staff officers were you not? In charge of tactics, strategy and war coordination?"

"Yes sir."

"Then while you may not remember the name Ahsoka Tano, 20 years on, you will remember a young Togruta padawan answering to…"

"Snips. Yessir. Her master…"

"…was me, Anakin Skywalker.

"The Hero-with-no-fear?..."

"More like a reckless idiot in my youth. Do you now see the position I find myself? Even a portion of it? This young rebel here is one of our former colleagues. A brother in arms. I believe in loyalty. Foremost. Something must have gone wrong, fundamentally, in our government for our former brothers to take up arms against us. Snips, without giving away rebel secrets, you're not the only Clone Wars Republic veteran to fight as a rebel are you?"

"No Master. There are many of us."

"Memories of former battles aside sir, where does this leave us? How do you get to treachery?" asked Lafayette.

"The more I dig, the more insidious it becomes. First I should tell you that I have done my fair share of morally questionable things. But I have never been disloyal, only picked between competing demands of loyalty and honor."

"That sounds like a loaded statement, sir."

"It is." Glowered the formerly jovial Togruta.

"The _Inquisitorious_ told me she was dead. While I was out completing the Emperor's assignment to round up the Jedi, they assisted me at his order. The _Inquisitorious_ are a lesser order of dark side Force users. The Sith, much rumored but little known, are historically the higher guardians of the dark side of the Force. Back when I was a Jedi, my colleagues predictably told all kinds of stories of the evils of the dark side."

"Sir? I've never understood the force, even with Jedi fighting at my side. Isn't the dark side evil?"

"It is." Said the Dark Lord.

"It can be." Corrected Ahsoka. "It is a set of powers that lend itself well to corruption, disregard for life, cruelty, and careless ambition. In older Jedi stories, the so-called grey jedi walk a path between light and dark. They try to do good, but are less…picky about their methods and more ruthless in the pursuit of their objective."

"Aren't you a Sith now, sir?" asked the very confused Captain.

"Yes." Intoned the Dark Lord.

"How does this relate to…" asked the Captain.

"Because the Force, and now the history is so muddled that neither of us can determine which way is up. What is good and what is evil. I know that even regular Imperial Navy officers have moral qualms, at least those who remember the Republic and served during the war. When was the last time you knew, with absolute certainty, right from wrong, good from evil, what you were fight for and who you were fighting against? Think carefully."

"I suppose that you've already hit the nail on the head sir. Right before the end of the war. A battle between liberty and slavery. And even now I can name the enemy as if they were my own children. Grievous. Trench. Loathsom. Ventress. Gunray. Poggle. Dooku. Kalani."

"Among our young rebel prisoner's cohorts, she has found a number of retired clones. Isn't that right Snips?"

"Yes." Ahsoka reluctanctly revealed, moving one shackled hand up to readjust her collar. "The surviving clones had an incredible story. There was some kind of preprogrammed chip inserted into their head at birth by the Kaminoans. No one has ever been able to decipher the chip, as they are biological and are destroyed in the extraction process." She continued.

Lafayette asked the curious pair, "Do you have any idea what's on the chip? Or how it relates to treachery and the Inquisitors?"

"We think it relates to the incredibly sudden manner that the Jedi were purged after being branded. Only one traitor, by the name of Barriss Offee, was ever brought to trial. She had already been tried and sentenced to death for treason and murder, for which I had been framed. Suddenly she was wheeled out and, looking in poor health and frazzled state of mind, she delivered two days of rambling confession about how the Jedi had planned and been on both sides of the war, intent on taking over. Then she was convicted and sentenced to life in prison amongst great fanfare before she disappeared. I think she was influenced. But I certainly think it is telling that none of the other Jedi, numbering around twenty to thirty thousand of the most powerful individuals in the galaxy, were never taken alive or given a trial. There are even reports that some who were arrested were sent incommunicado to a blacksite prison only known as Lusyanka. Most of what we have is pieces of a puzzle that don't add up. Some of it is guess work and supposition. We can't even confirm some of what we suspected because the Empire has the records locked down." Said the Rebel.

"The Rebellion has learned all that? You really do have spies in the military!" said the Captain.

"Captain. In war we do horrible things. Kill. Slaughter even. In some ways, I think it a blessing that we only faced droids in the war, rather than terminating sentient life. My name change is due, in part to a change of allegiance from the Sith to the Jedi, after the Jedi betrayed me, on a personal level. But I can tell you of things which Snips is not aware. For example, I personally killed all remaining members of the Separatist Council, under direct orders from the Chancellor. But more importantly, before the war started, the Jedi were chasing a Sith Lord named Sidious. Count Dooku admitted just before the first battle for Geonosis that he was a junior Sith in a partnership which already controlled the Senate. Given his perchant for lying, no one trusted it. However, the investigation heated up just before the war ended, like the mother of all coincidence." Intoned Lord Vader, solemnly.

"Isn't this all ancient history?" asked the Captain.

"It is the myth and very foundation of your Empire" spat the Rebel bitterly.

"It is the Empire," the Sith Lord gently corrected. "For the Supreme Chancellor, later Emperor, was Sidious. Therefore all coincidence is relevant. One of the last missions I took together with Master **Kenobi** was to find what happened to a long vanished Jedi Master named Sifo Dias. Sifo Dias had had a force vision of a massive conflict destroying the Jedi and the Republic, so he went ahead, without authorization, and ordered a million man clone army from the Kaminoans to be delivered in ten years. Obi-wan learned this from Jango Fett and the Kamino Prime Minister before Geonosis. Anyway, Count Dooku operating under his Sith name Lord Tyrannus, impersonated a Jedi and helped the Kaminoans perfect the Clone Army that he would later fight."

"Why in the name of god would any man put an army in his way, as an obstacle?" asked the disbelieving Lafayette.

"We have to confirm this," said Vader with a silencing glare at his apprentice, "but we think the Sith of the time wanted to control the galaxy by exhausting both sides against each other and then stepping in afterwards with something like the Empire."

"But if what you are saying is true, they already ruled. Dooku leading the CIS and Palpatine as Chancellor…" said the Captain struggling with the logic.

"Yes, but they did not hold absolute power. Although I was a young boy, I remember when the Chancellor deposed his predecessor, Finis Valorum. However corrupt we might now think of the Republic as, or however bad the Sep's said it was, it was still an overtly democratic institution. I myself have already seen a draft of a declaration that will issue in 20 weeks from the Emperor abolishing the Senate. Even Dooku had to pretend to go along with Bonteiri's peace initiative, and to appear to cooperate with the Banking Clan, no matter what machinations or assasinations were below the surface. The Sith of the time did not just want power, they wanted absolute power."

"Those autocrats are going to abolish the Senate and you work for this slime!" interjected an outraged Ahsoka.

"SILENCE, Snips. We must focus on the task at hand. Yes, it is in the works if Krennic's scheme comes through. Anyways in the closing days of the war, we tracked an aide of Valorum's to the Pike Syndicate. He was assassinated by Dooku, before my very eyes, before he could tell us more about the creation of the clone army. Obi-Wan knew more about it than I did, but we reported back to the Council, only to learn that Grievous had captured the Chancellor. We rushed to save him, and Dooku was killed in the affair. In his last moments, I think he was asking the Chancellor, his secret Sith master at the time, to save him. I was…ruthless in his execution. Obi-wan and the Jedi Council continued to trace who Sidious was, in a hunt through Coruscant's underground before coming to 500 Republica, the apartment building where the Chancellor and many other Senators lived. Eventually, we learned that the Chancellor was the Sith Master Sidious. The so-called assassination attempt by the Jedi was, precipitated by me reporting his identity when I learned it. Master Windu and others went to arrest the Chancellor. I was told to sit tight, but got antsy and went anyway."

Ahsoka frowned, feeling the regret and the pain of the decade old memories welling up in her former Master.

"The Chancellor was not just a secret Sith, he was a powerful one. He had smuggled a lightsaber into the office, past security, over a decade by bringing in pieces concealed in items of furniture. When I arrived, three of the masters who accompanied Mace were dead and Mace had cornered the Chancellor. Mace was about to execute the Chancellor and said he was too dangerous to take alive, because he controlled the Republic and the Courts would just let him go. For personal reasons, I wanted the Chancellor alive although, by accident, it was the moral thing to do. I interceded to stop Windu from killing the Chancellor and in the scuffle Mace was thrown out the window, to a fate unknown, but probable death from a several thousand story freefall."

Ahsoka barely dared breathe, having never heard this story before.

"The Chancellor promised to reveal to me secrets that would safe Padme Amidala, who was secretly my wife. In return I pledged loyalty and changed allegiances to the Sith. I was crowned with the name Vader and sent off on a mission to end the War and bring peace and stability to the galaxy. As vengeance for the attack on him and the damage to his body, the Chancellor declared the Jedi enemies of the state and ordered the purge. I was ordered to the Temple and while there I ended up slaughtering all Jedi present, even younglings when they raised a blade against me. They fought me and the clones to a man. I was also ordered, to Mustafar, to kill the Separatist Council. Although removing Nute Gunray's head was a particularly satisfying act of war, afterwards a galaxy-wide shutdown signal was sent out to the droid armies by me, using Gunray's codes. Leaving aside the great personal tragedies that befell me, some of my own making, that…that should have brought peace and order. Yet we still put down rebellion and repress the people. Thrawn, when he thinks I am not listening, calls it a useless and wasteless distraction from greater outside threats that he warns of."

"Other than the stark brutality of the Emperor's rise, what does this change? The historical narrative is mostly true isn't it? Even you said that Master Windu was going to kill the Chancellor." Asked Commodore Lafayette.

Ahsoka perked up.

"Yes, that's true. But the narrative has been twisted. There were loyal Jedi like me who did interfere to keep order, or at least protect innocent suspects from summary execution. The Chancellor should have faced trial. But the lies and subterfuge propogate. The Chancellor had always promised to surrender his war powers but never did. Although I was not listening to her at the time my wife, Senator Amidala, constantly pushed against more war, more money, and more power for the Chancellor. Even the peace I was told we brought to the galaxy was an illusion. The final Separatist Strongholds held out for years, and I suspect they are not all gone. Even Snip's rebellion here is the logical outgrowth of the Sep's. They use Sep technology, spring from disaffected former Separatist worlds, only now they fight not a corrupt democracy but a repressive empire." The Sith Lord imparted mostly dispassionately.

"Your empire." Ahsoka quietly castigated the two men.

"The rightful government, for which you once fought." Captain Lafayette weakly retorted.

"How does the illegitimate origins of the Empire redound to today's problem of inquisitors and rebellion?" asked Ahsoka.

"Because we need truth. At least those of us who fought and bled and died. But also because treachery is easier to conceal in the darkness of an autocracy than the open glare of a democracy. I suspect that a cabal of inquisitors and miscreants intend to use the illegitimacy of the Empire as a crutch and an excuse to support a _coup d'etat_ against the Emperor. The Emperor himself has allowed Tarkin and Krennic to carry him away into a mad scheme involving a world-destroying superweapon. Such a weapon is a waste and useless. Although I oppose it on different grounds than Grand Admiral Thrawn, this weapon is a catalyst which will cause the cabal of conspirators to up their timetable. Until the weapon is complete, the Emperor is in a precarious position. Rebels and conspirators surround him. And if you think him autocratic and cruel now, just wait till he wipes away the Senate and embraces Tarkin's doctrine of fear enforced by a world destroying superweapon. Unchecked by any institution except his own whims and paranoia he'll be unleashed. I cannot say that I support the disorder that I think Snip's rebellion brings, but the Empire we thought we knew was a lie Captain. Are you with us?"

"Yes Sir." Rang out a strong affirmative from the Captain.

"And you Snips. We have a lot more to discuss personally, but are you willing to help us uncover the truth?"

"Yes master. It will be a great privilege to work beside you again."

"You may need to reveal rebel assets or secrets, for if we are going to out a galaxy shaking truth, against the will of the Emperor, to protect galaxy from a _coup d'etat_ by conspirators, we must all show our hands."

"So far as I'm able."

"What is our timeline?" asked Lafayette.

"Unless Tarkin ups the schedule on the weapon, the test is in 19 weeks and the dissolution of the Senate will follow that."

"What is the next move, Master?" the curious young Rebel asked.

"We must gather trustworthy allies and answers. We will start with Raxus Prime, the old Separatist Capital. I have recently obtained a code and the location of Dooku's repository of records, stemming from his fear that Sidious would betray him which, to his credit, came to pass. You Captain after we meet up with reinforcements at Raxus, must head for Kamino, take the system by surprise, seize access to the computer records and vital witnesses. I want the entire system locked down and out of communication."

"Yessir. Who are we getting for reinforcements" Asked Lafayette.

"The Death Squadron-my personal armada, and the 501st. The _Devastator_ will go with you, under your command to assist in the Kamino operation. You must keep operational security. We cannot afford for either the Emperor or the conspirators to get word of this." Said Vader.

"Yessir."

"Commander Tano and I will proceed on our investigation from Raxus. I will send her and we will rustle up some support from old friends while we hunt down the truth. You must keep the Kamino System locked down and out of contact for 3 weeks. I do not care if you have to kill innocent people, establish a military government, or destroy every subspace transceiver in the system. No communications except from a controlled shuttle using preset codes, addressed to me. You'll use codes that Rayfin develops before we get to Raxus."

"Do you trust Rayfin my Lord?"

"I'm not sure. One of several reasons that we are keeping up the pretense of Ahsoka's arrest. Nonetheless, he will pass on codes from me."

"Yes My Lord. Anything else?"

"No. You are dismissed. Proceed to draw up plans to keep Kamino well in hand with the resources of the Devastator and the Conqueror."

"Now what master?"

"You tell me Snips. I have cleared a way forward. What will you do? And what do I do next? This entire plan going forward rests on your idea that the darkness is not permanent and that I won't kill you in 10 minutes."

"Grey jedi were once well respected. Their historical exploits are well enough known that jedi and learned leaders will listen and forgive."

"Assume that being the Chosen One and balancing the Force requires more. Then what is your answer?"

"Master, no prophecy can ask more of you than you can honest given with best efforts. More importantly it did not say you had to do it alone."

"Who've we got? We need trustworthy help. Right now we've got three people. The Jedi are scattered and broken, most dead. The Emperor's security bureau has hunted down all of Padme's old pacifist democratic friends. That list of 2000 was damn near the start of the purge lists on Coruscant. Or there is your pitiful band of rebels…"

"…Hey…"

"Snips. They mean well, maybe. But they bring chaos. And they could not stand up to my personal armada, much less the Navy in Thrawn's hands or Tarkin's monstrosity."

"What is that anyway?"

"Reveal high government secrets to an avowed rebel? What do you take me for?"

"Just askin'. So fine. Make us bigger."

"Moving up from requests for espionage to leak classified government secrets into treason by actual support for the enemy?"

"If you want this reveal to go properly you will need my friends at the table. They will need a material reason to come. They will give it depth and scope. On a personal note, some of them may even give you closure."

"What the hell does that mean!" snapped the Dark Lord.

"Master, you were just spouting off about a wife. And I'm pretty sure that your liking of dark colors never extended to primitive painful and scary life suits. Its pretty obvious that you don't change your name, turn your back on a lifetime of Jedi teachings, and become a Sith for no reason."

"You walked away! What's the difference?"

"I didn't hunt down and kill any of the people who did wrong to me. You took vengeance. Plus I _have_ studied the holocrons trying to help you. I know what it takes to be nudged down the dark side. Sharp trauma. Would you like to tell me about it?" said the Togruta, soft and fully of warmth.

"No." came a hollow and haunted reply from the Sith Lord.

"Going to send me away to my warm cheery cell?" ask Ahsoka with a burnish of sarcasm.

Vader winced and then said. "Returning to the topic at hand. I could make you bigger. But then what. Your rebels must contribute something too. Something besides 'scope.' Otherwise this shall fail and the galaxy will be fracture thrice and worse off than even the Empire, from your perception."

"We will bring heart Master. I rather think you would enjoy seeing Rex again."

"Rex! He made it!"

"I wasn't joking about closure Master."

"So you weren't."

"How will you make us bigger?" asked Ahsoka.

"Assuming your motley crew of rebels can commit, I thought I would share Separatist tech which I have been hoarding for 15 years. I have two castles, one on Mustafar and the other on Bast, where I have been hoarding any Separatist droids, documents, plans, or ship's I could find. Almost all of the Empire's stash of Separatist tech is under my command. I also know where to find General Grievous's hidden guerilla fleets of droids are. There are even some Separatist Strongholds that have not fallen to the Empire, which are not publicly known, and I could put you in contact."

"That's incredibly generous Master. But aren't you concerned about us stepping into Dooku's shoes."

"Perhaps. But this time I would know the principles espoused by the movement were genuinely held by the leadership. You rebels are nothing if not committed. Padme's old friend the Senator from Chandrilla is honest—a little pie in the sky—but genuine. You too. As well as Organa's brat. I thought he was bad. You should see the Intelligence file on her."

"What happened to _her_ Master?"

"You know—Organa's brat and Padme do look alike. To answer your question, I'm not exactly sure. I helped Sidious because I had a force vision of her dying in childbirth. She and Obi-Wan followed me to Mustafar. After the duel with Obi-Wan I woke up in this suit. Sidious said that I had killed her in my anger. I…remember choking her. Self-loathing has power the hate necessary for my dark side powers for years. I was not allowed to attend her funeral or visit her crypt on Naboo. Less than a year ago I snuck away, defying the Emperor by visiting her grave anyway. I had another vision, this one of the past. I know she lived long enough for Obi-Wan to get her to a hospital, but I don't know what happened or what hospital they went too. The vision is clouded. And its only real world support is that I know the Emperor lied to me about her death. But I do not know her fate or my culpability. And I'm afraid to find out."

"Obi-wan might know?" Ahsoka offered gently.

"Do not speak to me of him! He betrayed me! He tried to kill me! Then, unable to do it, he left me for dead! He had no compassion when I needed it. He offered no support. He condemned my happiness. He shares an equal blame with me in her death…. Besides he must be dead by now. It has been years."

"He is not. For reasons he will not explain, he will not join the rebellion. He is protecting something or someone. Or hiding from someone. But he is alive."

"Then I will kill him." Hissed the Sith Lord.

"You said the same of me three days ago on Malachor."

"I still might."

"He betrayed me too. But forgiveness and redemption are two different things…"

"What would you have me do? You seek to return me to the light yet wave the very cause of my darkness in front of me." Said the exasperated Sith Lord.

"You cannot put the darkness behind you, ignore it, whistle a happy tune and go light. Balance requires facing up to it. A scale weighs both sides. After Raxus let me go and get him and Rex and the other surviving Jedi. Let us rally and unite. Lets make a difference again."

"Fine." Ground out the Sith Lord. "We'll finish that discussion later."

"Master! We are not done. You must inflict pain on me."

"That is not necessary for your cover. It has been arranged. You will not be harmed."

"No, Master. This is part of the bargain I made you on the surface. Part of the promise I made myself. You were concerned about the dark seeping in. Take it out on me. I trust your affection for me to prevent it from being fatal or permanent. However, you dark side will hear my suffering through the bond. It will sate it temporarily. It will reward you for taking a good path and take some of the strain off."

"No. That is unacceptable. I hurt those I love once. Never again. I won't dishonor her by failing to learn my lesson."

"Then I will search for a substitute. Something will sate the dark side in you. Even if only temporarily."

"Go with the Stornmtroopers now and return to your cell. I will arrange for some reading material to be brought to you." Said the Dark Lord.

"No. There is still much we need to discuss. Padme…" Ashoka continued

"NO! Not now. Maybe not ever. You're dismissed" finished the Dark Lord coldly, after a panicked and resounding negative.


	3. A Shield Deflector Control Room

**Chapter III  
** A Shield Deflector Control Room.

She knew that she must have bothered him. She must have pushed him too far. Her first clue was being left in total isolation for ten days, except business visits by the Captain. Not just solitary confinement in the prison block, but also a mental wall closing off the bond between the Sith Lord and his former apprentice. Notwithstanding the wall, once the rage calmed down (presumably over the still sensitive area of the death of his secret wife) a large volume of annoyance set in.

The reading material the guards had delivered was not the technical manuals, strategic guidance, and case files she expected. Instead she received trashy bodice-ripper novels. And the most horrible teen girl magazines imaginable. She did not think she'd ever be able to look at pink the same way again. And she just knew that he sent her frilly girl magazines as a petty form of annoyance.

To compound it, the isolation gave her nothing to do but read the damn things. Surprisingly, at least to her, she enjoyed the make-up tips and celebrity gossip far more than the badly written romance novels.

But even the reading material ran out. And her patience and temper were too worked up for meditation. She had tried. There was literally nothing else to but…frigg off. So after thinking about it for twenty minutes, she looked around. Seeing no cameras, she gave into the temptation of the flesh and sought personal enlightment—her fate in her own hands.

No sooner did she get a rhythm going, in time with the ship's engines rumbling under the floor, than she froze. And flushed. With abject embarrassment. Through the mental brick wall that was her master apprentice bond she could feel, for the first time in days, something. In this case, amusement and glee. She wasn't sure how but he _knew_.

On the small plus side, despite having utterly embarrassed herself before the most feared Dark Lord of all time (or in his absence) she was sure that amusement was a good sign. She estimate that she'd be on to something new and exciting within just a few hours. For now she'd pray that he felt her through the Force, rather than saw/heard her some hidden camera that she'd missed.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **5 days earlier**.

"Sir. I require your authorization for transfer and travel," said Inspector Thanoth to the superior officer dressed in white.

"Yes. But the summons is most curious, is it not?" said recently promoted Grand Admiral Mith'raw'nurudo

"I do not think I go to my death. At least not immediately. While Lord Vader is intemperate enough to personally execute those of significance, I have not yet crossed him so. For a low value like myself, Lord Vader would be quite content to simply enter an order for my death into the Imperial databases." Said the monocle-wearing man.

"An accurate analysis, Inspector, but you miss the point I am driving at." Said Thrawn "Why would the Dark Lord summon you. It clearly is something personal to you or to this moment."

"The Dark Lord is close to the Emperor. Perhaps he is aware of the looming order transferring you to the unknown regions? In the ten years you have been with the Imperial Navy, you have developed a reputation for training brilliant but unorthodox officers as well as having an eye for talent. Could Lord Vader simply be laying claim to talent surrounding you? Some were disappointed to see the talent you nurtured in Eli Vanto leave Imperial service."

Thrawn pondered the Inspector's analysis for a moment before dismissing it with a wave of his hand.

"Modesty was certainly never among your skill sets, Inspector. I believe this transfer, at Lord Vader's apparently personal demand, is the start of a crusade. Your presence is almost certainly based on your own success in foiling the bank robbery on Muunilist last year. For all Lord Vader's intelligence and skill, his talents in investigation are limited. He has little patience for the indirect—even his recent plottings are after-acquired add-ons, like a poorly fitting adaption to a speeder designed for another purpose. You are no doubt summoned for your investigative talents. This means that the crusade starts, or is rooted in, the hidden. Lord Vader is looking for something."

Thanoth accepted this with a nod and proffered his padd with transfer orders for the Grand Admiral's authorization.

"Take care Inspector. Many roads lie ahead in the future. This is a portentuous time. Lord Vader's recent and strange actions, cutting communications, summoning you, and ordering his personal Star Destroyer Squadron to the outer rim are part of something new. Something unexpected. You may very well hold a significant role in the future of the Empire. My plans for assuring life in this galaxy demand the continued existence of a strong central government. I will be most displeased if I return from my forthcoming assignment in the unknown regions to find that something has happened to it." With that slightly ominious warning, the cultured voice of the blue-skined Grand Admiral trailed off as he authorized the Inspector's travel.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

 **Simultaneously**.

Captain (Commodore) Lafayette couldn't quite put his finger on it. There was a certain excitement in the air. Anticipation of forthcoming trials. Hope for change. Things that hadn't permeated the imperial Captain in many long years of service. He could point to Lord Vader as the starting point for this massive shift in morale, but could not say how or why.

The last two weeks had seen the ISD _Conqueror_ a buzz with activity. It was increasing hard to keep thinking of the Sith Lord as the monstrousity who had plagued the Empire for decades. Given the new jolt of energy running through the crew, it was more like he was a wizened Anakin Skywalker. The parallels seemed obvious once pointed out. The well-known affinity for front-line troops. His perchant for leading from the front. His directness. His brashness. Even his (sometimes lethal) temper.

The journey to Raxus had taken longer than expected because of two sidetrips. After further discussions between the Sith Lord and himself it was decided that someone must make a trip to the old Republic archives to get critical pieces of information. The problem with a new task was who to trust.

Vader told Lafayette that he would have to read in Moehler, the Stormtrooper Commander, and Rayfin, the prissy adjutant. Lafayette had expressed security concerns: that they did not know how big the potential conspiracy was and that some of the conspirators might even be shipboard. When the Dark Lord roughly castigated Lafayette and reminded him of the extraordinary security blackout they were under, Lafayette's mind continued to spin. The Dark Lord also commented that this was why Sinclair and ISB were being kept out of the loop.

The Dark Lord commanded Lafayette to attend to him in the port-side shield deflector room, and to bring Moehler and Rayfin with him. The three senior officers rode up in the turbolift together in silence. Upon reaching the room, Lafayette quickly noted the three dead bodies stacked together in the corner.

"My Lord!..."

"Captain, there will be an accident here in 30 minutes. It will cause the death of three crewmen of the nightshift operating the port shield deflector. The explosion will cause us to drop out of hyperspace. The investigation by Stormtrooper Commander Moehler will reveal sabotage which will justify a witch hunt to find the onboard saboteur. In the mean time we have things to discuss."

Lafayette remained offended at unannounced and unnecessary deaths of his men. Vader thought to himself that this quality is what made Lafayette such a superb officer.

"Gentlemen, there is a coup facing our Empire," the Dark Lord continued. "The extreme security precautions for the last week are justified by the fact the conspiracy is an internal threat which has infiltrated the military, Imperial Intelligence and ISB. I believe that there is at least one conspirator on board. I cannot tell you more than that. I need to know if I can trust you. If so, I need your discretion regarding our prisoner and other things occurring on this vessel. These fiends have ambushed us on Malachor. We have learned that they are responsible for providing faulty and damaging information to the Empire, such as falsely reporting dangerous Jedi traitors as dead when they are not. I do not know the full extent of this coverup. I know that they mean to strike at the Emperor, using some of his own weaknesses against us. This group has even been providing secret information to the Rebellion, not apparently in support of it, but simply to distract the focus of loyal imperial officers. This most insidious conspiracy hopes that the Rebellion and the Empire will kill themselves off, allowing the conspirators to waltz over whatever little opposition is left galactic domination."

Lafayette looked at the two other officers as Lord Vader laid out some of the truths facing them. Rayfin's face drained dramatically. Moehler not hiding behind her helmet, remained inscrutable.

"What can we do for you Lord Vader," asked Lafayette, who gave no indication that he had any prior knowledge of the circumstances.

The Sith Lord's cape flicked ever so slightly as he turned to his right to square up to Lafayette. "First, are you all with me?"

The three officers all nodded.

"The Commander Moehler will quietly plant explosives to blow up this room and stage the bodies of the crewmen to match a saboteur. Commander, I would be obliged if the damage was only superficially significant, but convincing is more important than anything. Rayfin, you will be in an escape pod ready to launch, with as much secrecy as possible, when we drop out of hyperspace. The Captain will arrange so that we arrive in real space on the edge of the Corellian system. Rayfin, you will then make your way to regular commercial transport and travel incognito to Bastion. I need to get copies of the files on this list from the combined Imperial/Republic Archives. You must not be detected." The Dark Lord handed a padd to Rayfin. "The files will not make sense to you. Your briefing covers only need to know information. Just get the information. Then you must brave the ruins of the old Jedi Academy on Dantooine for the second list of files. Rayfin, when you have completed both missions, send a message to the Bounty Hunter Guild message board seeking Boba Fett. He will have further instructions for you. If you fail, get caught, or are intercepted or discovered send a message to a junk dealer named Watto on Ord Mantell."

Lafayette asked about his role. He was told to set course for Mon Calamari.

The meeting then broke up with Rayfin and Moehler arranging the explosion. The Dark Lord and Commodore left together. Taking the same turbolift, the Dark Lord stopped it mid-transit. Once in private, Lafayette asked "Mon Calamari, my Lord? Corellia is already a very round-about route to Raxus Prime."

"We, as in this ship and anything involving me, are being watched Captain."

"Won't your witch hunt turn up the conspirators' spy onboard?"

"You're not thinking three dimensionally Captain. Even if we catch the real security risk, people at the Court and in the Empire still watch me. It is inevitable in an government centering on intrigue in the Imperial court. I am always watched, with various motives. That is part of the reason you and I will part ways at Raxus."

"Then why lay course for Mon Calamari, it's the wrong direction…"

"See, you do have it. I am laying several different trails. Depending on which trail of breadcrumbs is followed will tell me where the information came from. I am pretty confident in Moehler, and have hope for Rayfin. But the galaxy is at stake here. If Rayfin is the risk Ahsoka thinks he is, then it will be interesting to see who turns up in Mon Cala space looking for us."

"So where do we go from here?"

"You'll make a short jump, once Rayfin is away. Then you will casually remark to Sinclair on his next bridge shift about the suspicious disappearance of my adjutant."

"Sinclair? My weapons officer?"

"Also the ISB agent aboard," sighed the Dark Lord, "Do keep up Captain."

Lafayette paused for a minute as he tried to mentally reassess every conversation he'd ever had with the jolly Lieutenant.

"Why give ISB a trail to Rayfin if he is doing vital tasks?"

The Dark Lord smiled behind his mask as the Captain continued to show is skill. "Because his is not the only one doing those tasks and those locations are not the only location to find the information. It is as much a test of ISB and Rayfin as it is a quest for information."

"Very well, My Lord. What next and where to?"

"You will have to personally visit Ahsoka now. Get from her the appropriate comm protocols to contact the Lothal Rebel cell. Then have her record an audio which you personally will transmit from the Lamba chase shuttle, when we drop into real space, after we get rid of Rayfin. I also want an arrest order issued, while we are in the Corellia system for Lord Organa and his family. Add Senator Bel Iblis to that as well. Once that is done, we have one more stop before setting a direct course for Raxus."

"Yessir. What will she tell the Lothal Rebels?"

"I have told her that she may tell them anything she wishes and I won't interfere. Your integrity and my non-interference are her only guarantees. I will not cramp them when she has trusted us. She is supposed to report her continued survival and freedom, as well as request the Ghost Squadron to duplicate some of Rayfin's work and meet us at Raxus. Whether she'll hold up her end is course an open question. You'll bring her some food. I also need you to bring her some reading material I've handpicked…"

Lafayette was almost certain he could actually hear a grin in the sinister Dark Lord's voice as he stepped off the turbolift as the doors opened, leaving the Captain behind speechless.


	4. In Transit

**Chapter IV**

In Transit

Newly appointed Imperial Intelligence Director Ysanne Isard was a fantastically successful 28-year old woman who had risen high in Imperial Rank based on a combination of great skill and even greater connections. Perhaps the best exemplar of both her connections and her life philosophy was the still warm body of her recently deceased father, the former Imperial Intelligence Director. Well, his body and her still smoking blaster.

Behind her stood Colonel Yularen of the Imperial Security Bureau, a closely related but independent agency to her own Imperial Intelligence. Colonel Yularen's face was writ large with his disapproval of events. The Colonel thought of both war and intelligence as impersonal arts for professionals who held the requisite distance to provide objectivity and judgment.

However Isard had not gotten this far by distance and professionalism. She rose to each challenge by taking obstacles as personal affronts and failure as fault in herself. This overwhelm thirst to prove herself, combined with a keen mind and a sharp passion for success made her who she was.

"You engineered this outcome. This was what you asked the Emperor for, personally, and were denied." Said Colonel Yularen with castigation in his voice.

"I did not" said the pretty woman with dichromatic eyes, "I followed the very letter of the Emperor's order."

"He would have been a valuable source of information, alive. Dead he can tell us nothing." Said the Colonel dispassionately.

"He was a traitor!" seethed the new Director, "to the Empire and the good name of my family."

"So you take personal vengeance to the detriment of the Emperor's order? He would have told us a great deal about the rebel cliques that keep cropping up in the Capital."

The new Director sneered, "Do you mean to say the neither ISB nor Intelligence can overcome petty intrigues by these rag-tag Rebels."

"This lack of foresight is why you would never have succeeded in ISB" flatly stated the white-haired Colonel. "More than fifteen years on, we still face Separatist hold-out worlds. For a war that has been over for a long time. The Rebels may have started rag-tag, even pacifist, but they are growing in will and resources. Their reach extends into the Capital and the military. They are weeds which are impossible to eradicate unless you get the roots. Your father had a great deal of information which ISB was desperate to get."

The young Director quickly wrote off the Colonel's advice as ancient information from an out-of-touch source. "So what will ISB report?"

"We will report that while you were overaggressive with the former Director due to emotional entanglement, you was provoked and had to defend yourself from the blaster he pointed at you," said the Colonel. "However, ISB will not forget this insolence to the Emperor's express order that he be taken alive and interrogated. Do be careful Director. No one is indispensable in an Empire except the Emperor."

With that the ISB Colonel turned on his heel and marched away, whipping out a communicator to start a new matter. "Thrawn…" Isard heard from Yularen as he walked away.

Isard waved over several of her new employees to clean up the mess. She told them to cremate her father's corpse as he was unworthy of a military funeral or honors. With a smile, she walked out front to her official speeder and ordered the diver to head for the Imperial Palace to make her report in person. She also had to thank the Emperor for her promotion, and explain away killing her Father despite his orders.

She, and others like Governor Pryce, represented a new guard who grew up under COMPNOR with little or no memory of the Republic or the Clone Wars. This new guard was most anxious to replace hold overs like Yularen from prior days, those who had lived through complex and trying times with a litany of evils and loyalties.

The Empire, to avoid the faults of its indecisive predecessor Republic, required a sharp policing of orthodoxy. Nonconformance was the first step down the road to disloyalty. Now she was the judge of purity and patriotism. A position she relished as helping the Emperor grow a new government for the permanent future.

The new guard was every inch the ideologically and racially pure group that the Emperor had promised to the galaxy. And she would make sure that it stayed that way. Even if it involved intriguing against or framing loyal officers, like her Father or that blue-skinned Grand Admiral…

And just imagine how she could police orthodoxy with a planetary superweapon. Advanced Weapons Research was, now, nominally under her command even though Tarkin was interfering and Krennic had a significant amount of autonomy. But bureaucratic politics were simply an extension of an intelligence agents skill set for stirring up trouble, manipulating factions, and ensuring a profitable outcome. She was very confident that she could do this.

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Lord Bail Organa, formerly a Galactic Senator, now the reigning monarch of Alderaan sat in his throne contemplating. They had come a long way, through great ups and downs. Bail had been a significant, though hidden, player in the events around the demise of the Republic. He remembered his last meetings with Padme Amidala as well as the events involved in saving and hiding her children.

During the Clone Wars, he had supported and been a leading proponent of peace. His opposition to the Chancellor's increased powers was manifest. However opposition by voice in the legislative chamber had given away to opposition by arms in support of the secretive rebellion.

In truth, the Rebellion was every inch the rag-tag group that the Imperial Navy said it was. Different cells operating under different leaders with different motivations had bred a great deal of disunity during the twenty years since the declaration of Empire. Bail was proud at having been one of the signers to the treaty of alliance, formally creating the Rebel Alliance. The treaty brought together his group, Mon Mothma's group, Garm Bel Iblis's group, and many others into an organized opposition with voice and structure. Even still, people like Saw Guerrera took

Bail deeply wished that he could keep his adopted daughter out of the conflict, but she had more of a thirst for the fight for freedom than even he did. Several times she had been detained or nearly arrested for treasonous activities. And the danger grew by the day. While the Rebellion was growing stronger, the Imperials grew more desperate and determined to crush it.

Bail had never dreamed that the Empire would dare touch a sitting Galactic Senator. They possessed ancient legal immunities. And not even the Emperor himself had interfered with or done away with the Senate, at the start. But the times had change. Mon Mothma had been driven underground, one step ahead of her arrest warrant. The Senator from Thrad had also been treated poorly, ignored and then driven underground. Some of the military's detractors were framed on trumped up charges of corruption and bribery. Occasionally people just disappeared. Armand Ysard had been ruthless in advancing his agenda against all comers, even the Senate. His newly appointed daughter would, no doubt be even worse than her father. Which made the conversation he just finished to be terrible.

"Bail" greeted a blue miniature hologram of Mon Mothma.

"Mon! What in heavens name are you doing calling me. Leia and I are already under suspicion. That last ship delivery nearly got her caught!"

"Bail—Listen carefully. One of our spies on Coruscant has ties to the central security network for law enforcement and execution orders. Arrest orders have been issued for you and your family. You must flee."

"How can an order issue…"

"…We don't know." Interrupted the mini Chandrillan, "It is an unusual order. There is no file, no magistrate, not even an order from a military governor. It does not command your execution, only your arrest. It was apparently issued by ISB on direct orders from Darth Vader."

"Vader? Does he even known how to arrest people, as opposed to kill, hack, slash, burn, and blow-up his way through obstacles…"

"Bail! This is serious. If our spy found it, the arrest warrant is already in the central database. They could already be on their way to get you. You must flee!"

"My people…"

"Your life! Your family! Your cause!"

"What would you have me do? Where will we go?"

"Flee! Now! Something is already happening to Garm, who was on the same arrest order…"

And so there sat a speechless monarch considering his life and flight from his own homeworld. Fortunately, his daughter was not so paralyzed. Stepping forward from the shadows where she had been eavesdropping, the young princess asked, "What about Garm?"

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It must have been a historic first. She was unsure how to address the situation.

"My lord?"

The tall Sith Lord had never…

No. People came to Darth Vader, not the other way around. That was the right formulation. The thought still left Commander Moehler standing in the doorway of her private officer's quarter trying to greet Lord Vader.

"Commander" greeted the deep bass voice.

"What can I do for you sir?"

"Commander, I came, in part to return your reading material. I would just as soon not delay its return to you."

"Will that be all My lord?"

"For now. Tomorrow you must drill your troops. I also want a detachment of your men, led by you, to be assigned to me. You will stay with me on Raxus Prime rather than going on to Kamino with the _Conqueror._ "

"Yessir. Anything else."

"I…" the Dark Lord trailed off. In a way that would have been described as hesitant or uncertain were it not coming from a seven foot tall black masked murderer.

Moehler waited patiently at military attention, despite the decidedly un-military clothing she was in. At least the Sith was not concerned about that.

Taking another tack, Vader asked the Stormtrooper, "What's your opinion of our prisoner?"

"Demonstrates obvious combat experience. Definite confidence in step and gait. Decidedly un-military in outlook," Moehler snorted, "Irreverent to the might and power of the Empire. Cheeky even. Marked sense of humor. Not having seen her fight, I would say that she appears to be a most formidable foe. The Stormtrooper guard reports that she freely uses force powers, even in confinement, for all manner of purposes."

"And you opinion of me?" Queried the intimidating Sith.

"Not for me to say, sir."

"An honesty and respect must be had between all warriors. I have always treated Stormtroopers and other front-line troopers fairly, if harshly. Your opinion Commander, now," Vader finished with a sharp tone.

"Indescribable force talents. A personal recklessness for your own personal safety, which would be unconscionable but for your skills. Ruthless in pursuit of objectives, even at the cost of men. Cruel…" Moehler herself trailed off assuming her forthcoming death.

"…go on…" said the deep bass tonelessly.

"…but you've gone soft in the last week. A month ago you would have killed me stone dead for that comment. Much less be borrowing bodice-ripper novels..."

"Yes. That was for a friend. Do not mention it to anyone."

"Something about the prisoner, Sir, has changed you. And the crew. They're infused with an energy. Who is she, to have this kind of effect…as a prisoner no less…"

The Dark Lord thought about that comment for a second. Tilted his head. After a moment, he ground out a "Drill tomorrow, Commander" and turn on his heel and left.

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Garm Bel Iblis was an interesting man. An esteemed Senator from Corellia, he was very conservative. In the sense of being a strong proponent of the military, and the police forces. He was a law and order man, concerned that business, trade, and commerce should be free to carry on their way. He had even supported the declaration of Empire, in light of the chaos of the time and the instability of the Republic.

All this made him an unlikely rebel. However, the cruel and capricious nature of empire was a threat to basic freedoms. The graft and corruption under the Empire was even worse than that of the Republic. ISB couldn't chew through enough cases. That was why he had been a proponent of their foundation. To try and create internal order, ISB's original mandate was the elimination of internal corruption.

But even ISB had become warped. Though it was still the most honest thing around. Just look at the incredible waste of resources of the Empire buying massive amounts metals, even from the black market! How was any respectable business supposed to carry on, when the government made no secret of its willingness to buy dolomide and doonium from criminals. He had not even finished trawling through Juanhir Madras's data.

However she and her cell were arrested after some zealot took the idea too far and tried to assassinate an Imperial Officer. The entire Rebellion business lacked the moral clarity of military service, from Bel Iblis's days in the Clone Wars doing double duty as Senator and General. However given the wasteful use of resources and the capricious nature of the Empire, there was little other choice.

With the drawing of the Empire's fist around dissent, Bel Iblis's rebel colleagues in the Senate and elsewhere were being driven underground, or arrested. A young spark by the name of Bridger got out a message, from Lothal to the rest of the galaxy declaring the unfairness of Empire. Watching Pryce throw a temper-tantrum in the oversight committee meeting was worth a great deal to him.

But Garm knew the net was closing. So he prepared to make a follow up to Bridger's example. Mon Mothma has simply slipped away one step ahead of the Empire. Garm was going to make a speech condemning the waste and repression of the Empire to his _alma mater_ , the Military Academy on Selonia. Because this event was commemorating the 750th anniversary of the Republic's Empire's oldest and best academy, the week-long celebration was being broadcast galaxy-wide over the holonet. The Emperor himself was giving the keynote speech in three days. It was just the platform the Rebellion needed. A complex plan involving friends of long-standing among the staff would see him "arrested" after his speech and then escape.

So there was Garm, firing away at injustice after injustice. The speaker's platform was on rhetorical fire. The Cadets were riveted in their seats as he told them they had a moral obligation to do good, to respect the rights of others, treat all species equally, and make sure their government was one worth defending. The in-person holonet reporters were stock still for what they thought was a historic speech. The climax of the speech was Garm announcing his resignation from the Senate and his joining of the Rebel Alliance.

No sooner did he say that then the entire wall behind him exploded into him.

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Lafayette was certain that feeding a prisoner was well below the dignity of his position as a Commodore and senior Captain in the Imperial navy. On his own ship. But unlike days earlier when he was left in the dark, there was a spring in his step. Knowing his place in a greater puzzle made even menial tasks worthwhile.

Talking to a lively and vivacious young togruta certainly did not hurt. She had such personality. Willing to joke about herself, her situation, her visitors and anything else in the conversation. It was quite a relief, a joy even.

This visit, bring her liquor, at her request, for the first time was a little different. To start off, she had asked the strangest thing about cameras in the detention area. Lafayette assured the young prisoner that while cameras were standard, Lord Vader had ordered the Stormtrooper guard to remove them all when they relieved the Naval troopers.

The pair could not talk of anything serious, like Rebellion or Imperial military protocols, as they were still adversaries. But they could reminisce over days as former colleagues under Admiral Yularen.

As the Captain got up to leave and start watch on the Bridge, the Togruta posed a serious question.

"Why am I still in here?"

"You're a rebel aren't you? You certainly couldn't be Imperial, or military, wearing those colors."

"But why _here_ in jail. I thought we were all working together. Surely my master has enough room in his command quarters, personal quarters, and other rooms for me? It would allow us to plan better and quicker in proximity…"

"You'll remember that the fiction of your prisoner status is still necessary for an conspirators on board, any curious members of Imperial Intelligence, and anyone watching from the Imperial court."

"Yeah, but I'm small and can be stealthy."

"My dear, even you cannot have failed to notice a large black life suit on the man. He does not sleep in the conventional sense. Even his room is a large hyperbaric chamber for breathing, in which he sits in a chair. He himself has nowhere in which to lie flat. At least you can be comfortable in here. And safe from any zealous Imperial who might wish you harm Putting you here is a kindness."

With that the Captain jovially waved to the cheery Togruta who put a thoughtful face on as the Captain left.


	5. Correllia

**Chapter V—Correllia**

And so it was that Captain (Commodore) Lafayette was on the bridge to start his watch. Having just wrapped up a short entertaining chat with the Rebel, he was still smiling from a joke about what Vader might get up to alone his black egg chamber, and the benefits of hyperbaric environs for certain aerobic exercises…

When the Ship violently shuddered. Blaring sirens and klaxons around him, the Captain was the picture of calm as he demanded a status report from the bridge crew. A nervous young crewman from the port-side pit yelled up that there was an explosion in the superstructure and that the ship was dangerously close to falling out of hyperspace.

To avoid tearing the ship apart, Lafayette ordered the ship to drop out of hyperspace immediately. He also ordered General Quarters. In the midst of the hub-bub on the bridge, no one mentioned a small pod shooting off from the rear starboard bank of escape pods. The Captain himself would not have seen it, without advance warning. He silently wished Rayfin luck as he wondered whether anyone of them would survive this increasingly treacherous journey. Setting course for Raxus had seemed so much simpler days ago.

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It would remain one of Commander Moehler's happiest memories, the kind you take to the grave. Interrupting Rayfin to shove the desk officer into an escape pod and hit the launch button while he was in mid-sentence was well worth the walk. The annoying adjutant had been very needy and very talkative. He wanted this will-doc updated and these people given his final farewell. It was like the man had never been in an escape pod before. The look of abject surprise and fear was absolutely worth it. These were the moments that she was positive that Lord Vader steered toward his loyal Stormtroopers, who loved him for it.

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Corran Horn, a distinguished and successful detective with CorSec, was momentarily confused. He stood in the middle of an amazing and unexpected scene. He had been assigned to the security detail for the celebration at the Military Academy on Selonia. Or rather he had volunteered himself for the detail, in light of a rather threatening and extortionate vid-call two weeks ago from Armand Ysard, the feared Director of Imperial Intelligence.

Ysard had called Horn at home. That alone was odd enough, though certainly not beyond the vast influence of the ruthless Director. Ysard had been very abrupt on the vid-call. Ysard had revealed that he (Ysard) was personally aware of Horn's status as the son of Nejaa Halcyon. Ysard further revealed that he knew the reason Halcyon's partner Rostek Horn had taken a young child through a secret adoption and raised it as his own. Corran Horn was an untrained Force Sensitive. His real father, Halcyon, had been a member of the quirky and elusive Green Jedi of Correllia. Anyone in official or law enforcement circles in the Empire knew what happened to Force Sensitives. What stories there were indicated no good fates for such individuals. The larger absence of facts and information proved a sinister confirmation of the rumors, for those who knew how to read such things.

Horn's faced had paled dramatically. And then the Director had laughed. "Fear not, Detective, while tragic things do happen to people with your set of talents, I have need of them. Having talents like yours at my disposal, in addition to your prodigious skill as an investigator will serve the Empire well. All I ask is a few favors an I shall protect you in turn.."

Knowing the look of a fattened spider used to sitting in its web and getting its way by pulling on strings, Horn bit back "Just a few favors? Rather than treacherously using me and throwing me away?"

"Relax Detective, I am Intelligence. Knowledge is my trade. I agree that any partnership between us is uneven, but not overly unfair. I will keep your files off-line in my extensive personal collection. A note will be placed in the central database that you are an Asset of Imperial Intelligence and not to be harassed. Any official action, of any kind, will trigger a notification to Intelligence and to me. Mindless minions such as Stormtroopers are a dime a dozen, real value comes from subordinates with brains, capable of using them, who are invested in the success of an endeavor."

Horn thought it over.

Armand continued, "Otherwise I could simply turn my dossier on you over to the Inquisitors right now….What do you have to lose?" The question was left hanging menacingly.

And so Horn complied with the two unusual demands that the Director made.

First he scooped a file on a Muun by the name of San Hill. The CorSec Database now simply showed that the filed was deliberately deleted by a higher but unspecified authority. Rather than follow Isard's directions exactly, Horn had left a tripwire. Anyone querying for the file would not just send an alert to the Director but also to Horn himself. It was a creative bit of programing to avoid any fingerprints in the deletion, but allow the tripwire to remain in place.

Secondly, he used his seniority to bid onto the security detail for the Military Academy. Given the subsequent announcement that the Emperor himself would deliver the key note address in person, the entire CorSec delegation was being given a background check by the Red Guard. The Emperor's personal bodyguard bureau had a significant advance operation for any trips by the monarch. Horn had been certain that his secret would be revealed. However Isard must have done something, because the Red Guard cleared him for the security detail.

This led to Horn's current predicament. Isard had originally told him to get onto the detail, to keep any eye out for anything interesting. A week ago a new message from Ysard said that a new plan was in the works. Horn would be "contacted by an unusual operative" with the code word "Corusca gems."

The security detail itself was textbook. Organized with cooperation from some of the best security professionals in the galaxy, with a talent pool drawing from both the brightest local talent and the most talented professionals on loan from the Empire. This itself occurring at a military school offered perhaps the safest place in the galaxy. Until things started exploding.

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Lafayette following Lord Vader's orders, immediately sent a transmission to Correllian Space and Planetary Traffic Control (CSPTC). Reporting an explosion with uncertain cause, the ship traffic around Selonia started to buzz frantically. Then Lafayette sent a couple of deliberately garbled transmissions. Finally he turned his attention back to his own behave of activity.

A quick yell of "QUIET!" in his best parade ground voice restored disciple amongst the bridge officers. He asked for a status report. The XO reported that the ship was at General Quarters. The Stormtrooper Liaison Officer reported that the prisoner was secure and that Moehler was awaiting orders. Ops reported that the portside shield deflector room had exploded and there was at least three fatalities.

He asked for further details, to which the Lt. Commander who was the Ops officer indicated that the explosion was internal and that the best guess was sabotage. "Sabotage?" demanded the outraged Lafayette "how do you know that?"

The XO stepped in to answer the question by stating that there were no reported mechanical difficulties and that both Sensors and Weps (Sinclair at the moment) indicated no external threat. Lafayette asked Ops if that seemed accurate, to which the Lt. Commander confirmed that was her suspicion as well. Lafayette immediately ordered an internal lockdown, excluding a damage control party.

Turning to the Stormtrooper liaison, he asked if they had enough men to conduct the search, or if the manhunt should be left in the hands of the Naval Troopers. The Liaison officer wasn't sure so he radioed down to Moehler. While this was occurring, the Ops Lt. Commander reported that three escape pods had been jettisoned with scrambling which prevented their contents from being identified by sensors.

The bridge crew could readily see that the Captain was getting frustrated. The Liaison officer reported that Moehler could perform the search and preferred too. Her detachment was actually drilling and therefore already geared up, more so than the normal standing compliment. Sinclair interrupted to report that escape pods had proven a common rebel strategy in the last months.

Throwing his hands up, Lafayette told the bridge crew that they were not going to get any answers here. He ordered an emergency jump to light speed, after another message, this time sent by the Comm officer, was sent to CSPTC outlining the sabotage theory and the three authorized escape pods. And so, with a slight limp, the Star Destroyer quickly winked back into non-existence. But not before creating a shitstorm on the ground.

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Rayfin was certain that he was doomed. He would either die in the cold vacuum of space or Lord Vader will kill him for being too cowardly to get into the pod. Worse yet, Lord Vader had given him two sealed orders which could not be opened or read until certain conditions were met. The man was literally spinning off into the unknown black without a clue what he was to be doing, other than data retrieval at two _very_ remote locations.

He expected to crash land into Selonia and then to be on his own, if he survived the landing. Therefore he was very surprised when he heard the "THUMP" of magnetic clamps. He could not see anything outside the window. However he did have a bad feeling about this. The view out the ingress/egress port quickly rotated around to a small size Correllian freighter with a docking attachment centered. Shortly thereafter he was met at the port of the freighter by a blue-skinned Duros with a big hat. The Duros ground out, in a gravelly voice, "Come on. We've got a tight schedule and you ain't pretty enough to waste time staring at."

Rayfin was speechless.

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Horn and the detail received an arrest order for Correllia's revered Senator Bel Iblis. Horn was inclined to disregard the order entirely. However the Imperial desk jockey in charge of the whole security detail was a zealot. He ordered Bel Iblis's arrest. Unfortunately, the order came in too late to prevent the Senator from taking the stage live on galactic holo. The desk jockey wanted to arrested the Senator, irregardless.

One of Horn's colleagues from CorSec "accidentally" clunked the desk jockey over the head with his blaster rifle while swinging it around. The desk jockey fell out of the chair, unconscious, and was left where he fell. The CorSec personnel in the office tensed up for a minute, concerned what the remaining Imperial personnel would do. Until the Commandant of the Military Academy, a woman in her mid-50's, said "Sure. Take away all my fun. I was going to do that." The Stormtrooper to her left visibly slouched and relaxed.

"Don't worry, Boy-o. We're in a secure facility on high alert. There's no harm in letting him speak and then taking him quietly later. He won't get away. And we won't tarnish the Imperial reputation in these parts any more than necessary."

Now that was the practical kind of viewpoint that Horn could get behind. And so the senior members of the security detail and the Commandant sat back and watched the Senator's speech on the video screens. Until an alert sounded on another monitor.

An alert came in warning that an in-system Star Destroyer had been sabotages and that three Rebels had gotten away in escape pods. "I thought the only Star Destroyers in system were the _Accuser_ and the _Exactor_ over Correllia Prime," asked one of the Imperial Security Officers.

"Nevermind that! Rebels saboteurs! Here! We need to put all posts on alert." Demanded the Commandant.

"What about the Senator?" asked Horn.

"…" The Commandant choked.

But their prayers were answered by another catastrophe.

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No sooner did the ISD _Conqueror_ send its message and then jump into hyperspace than CSPTC went nuts. The senior shift operator immediately called up the Correllian Militia. The first response was a fighter wing from Coronet (aka Correllia Prime). It took the fighter wing 10 minutes to get into immediate Selonian space. When they arrived, they were updated by CSPTC which was outraged that some freighter had deviated from their course and picked up one of the three suspect escape pods. The fighter wing immediately but unsuccessfully tried to intercept the freighter before it also jumped into hyperspace.

Mad as hell, the fighter wing swarmed around like an angry bee hive searching for the other two pods. In the midst of this disaster CSPTC detected problematic interlopers. Warning the fighter wing, the pilots made an about face before coming nose to nose with 16 top of the line Incom X-Wing fighters, used exclusively by the Rebel Alliance.

The Rebel hypothesis confirmed, the fighter wing commander ordered the Rebels to surrender as they were under arrest. He also warned that three milita frigates were incoming. The Rebels refused to surrender. However they had, apparently, specially armed theses X-Wings with ion canons. Deftly, the Rebel pilots outflew and disabled the fighter wing without any casualties. Then they latched on to the two remaining pods and also disappeared into hyperspace.

Then an alert sounded from the Military Academy.

The CSPTC senior controller was absolutely certain that someone was getting fired.

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The appearance of actual Rebel fighters caused another round of alarms to go off in the security office of the Military Academy. Horn briefly wished the alarm was a more pleasing noise. Conversation was impossible with the multiple blaring alarms. The Commandant of the academy signaled to one of the officers to cut the noise.

Then the slouching Stormtrooper took out a very un-miliary blaster and stunned her. Horn turned sharply, uncertain what was going on. Then two simultaneous explosions rang out. The monitor showed the wall behind Bel Iblis blow out. But the debris laying on Horn's back, and his ringing ears, verified the hole in the wall of the security office. Fortunately Horn was a resilient type and roused after a moment.

He was relieved to see Bel Iblis alive, moving on the monitor underneath the rubble. The ceremonial cadet detachment was digging him out. But then Horn remembered the Stormtrooper. He turned and saw that the Stormtrooper was gone. Worse, he had put some kind of internal security lock onto the computers. A lock which was designed to help keep order at the academy. Keyed to the Commandant's voice and authorization. Except she was now stunned and buried under the rubble from the wall.


	6. Bothawui

**Chapter VII—Bothawui**

A rag-tag rebellion indeed, thought Borsk Fey'lya as he was leaving his meeting with the Imperial Governor. Only the secret knowledge that he was the recently unified Rebellion's spymaster made interminable meetings with the Governor, a pedantic fellow named Royce, bearable. The upside of placating such a massive ego in such a incompetent frame with such a monstrous personality was that the Governor truly believed Fey'lya was a loyal imperial citizen. Playing the mewling traitor who "understood" the place of lesser beings—non-humans—boosted the Governor's confidence. The Governor had, over the five years they'd worked together, not been shy about letting Fey'lya do the Governor's work. He even regularly revealed secret Imperial dispatches to the Bothan. In fact, three years ago, in the middle of a trade dispute, the Governor had illegally ordered copies of his rank cylinders and given them to Fey'lya with a effete wave of his hand and an admonishment to "take care of it."

Fey'lya had been the Chief Councilor of Bothawui since shortly after his adulthood. His father and grandfather had both also held the post, although it was an elective one rather than a monarchy. Given his family's wealth and status, he had been given all the privilege which could be had on the planet. And he had put it to good use, becoming a prodigious organizer.

Royce on the other hand, was essentially an Imperial washout. A much younger man when he arrived, Royce had transferred out of the Imperial Navy to take up a recently vacant Governor's post. He had not realized the vacancy was from lack of demand. Although Bothawui had been a prominent member of the Republic, it had decayed to become a backwater under the Empire because of its overwhelming non-human population. So as the miles of age racked up on the odometer, Royce left behind his ineffectual politicking in the Imperial Capital and settled in to enjoy the comforts of his governorship for the long term. A far cry from the ambitious young man he'd once been, all he asked now was for his luxurious amenities and to be left unbothered by administrative minutiae. The tacit understanding that the Bothan could do what he liked if the Governor was taken care of made the relationship an easy one.

The meeting that Fey'lya had just left was a puzzling one. A new dispatch had been sent out to all Imperial Governors with special biological encoding. Not even with Royce's rank cylinders could Fey'lya open the message. Royce had, in a remnant of his old self, been reluctant to share the details but presaged a massive change in the structure governing the Empire. Fey'lya had assumed that Royce was joking about the potential abolition of the Senate, until Royce had shown him the screen. The message contained no reference to what had engendered this change, or what the Governors should be doing to prepare for it. It was a vague warning delivered under unusually high security.

When asked why, Royce only speculated that the rag-tag rebellion "must have broken another cypher or else some idiot in intelligence is just being paranoid." The Imperial Governor was far more concerned with the specter of even more paperwork that "he" would have to do. "At least there are no rebels here in this backwater, right Borsk? Not important enough." Royce bit off with a self-deprecating laugh.

Tempting fate, Fey'lya had responded, "Well sir, if the Imperial Security Bureau's warnings are taken seriously, the rebels are hiding under every desk and listening to every…"

"…conversation," said the Governor finishing a tired public relations campaign sponsored by ISB. "If those blowhards did their job rather than playing movie director and hiring pretty models for dumb holonet commericals, the rebellion would already be over." "Is there anything else Borsk?"

After being dismissed, the Chief Councilor retrieved his security escort and left Imperial House to return to the native Bothawui Government Offices. Although it wouldn't seem it to someone who had just watched him grovel before Royce, the Chief Councilor was the head of Bothawui's planetary government. Before the establishment of the Empire, Borsk's father had thought to name Borsk as a Senator when he was old enough. After the Empire was declared, the Jedi outlawed, the military purged, and the anti-alien bias made official government policy, Borsk's father rethought. And so Borsk grew up to rule his own planet's government. Given the internecine carnage that Borsk glimpsed through Royce's failed efforts at Coruscant politics, Borsk was happy being a big fish in a little pond, rather than a small fish in a big pond.

But then, despite the Empire's massive censorship regime and repressive security apparatus, word of skirmishes and defiance leaked out. People began to dream of something different, something better. The Empire cracked down and defiance flared. But it remained disorganized.

Fey'lya, and the Bothan Government, have the biggest and best spy network in the galaxy. They learned that the Empire's control of the galaxy was not what it appeared. Noting a long history of rebellion and insurgency on individual planets, the Bothans contacted individual movements, such as Bria Tharen's Topwararn Rebels who were connected to Bel Iblis. With Bel Iblis, Bail Organa, Mon Monthma, and others, Borsk had been a organizer giving effect to Organa's dream of an organized and united rebellion. The Corellian Treaty had been signed less than two years earlier.

Borsk, in particular, had a close relationship with Garm Bel Iblis. Due to the compartmentalization, no rebel knew the entire extent of the High Command. Keeping compartmentalization was increasingly difficult as the Rebellion was now fielding a real fleet and a headquarters. The fleet, previously a rag-tag group of freighters, fighters and used military surplus corvettes, had benefitted greatly from Mon Calamari Cruisers brought by Admiral Raddis and Admiral Ackbar. With Mon Monthma's public defection and Bel Iblis's pending escape, the Rebellion was preparing to declare war—rather than a guerrilla action. Mon Cala and other worlds were going to make a coordinated announcement of their resistance to the Empire. More than one veteran remarked it felt eerily similar to the Declaration of Confederacy by Count Dooku. In several important sectors of the historically anti-authoritarian anti-establishment anti-centralization Outer Rim, the Rebels now actually fielded a bigger force than the Empire.

Now, despite a disparate coalition of rebel cells, Borsk knitted the spies together with his own Bothan Spynet. The rebels could now have intelligence priorities. Right up there with supplies and information on the Imperial military, the Rebel's highest priority was to confirm rumors of Separatist strongholds. Any strongholds which had held out against the initial Clone War and the mop-up campaign 17 years ago must be both well hidden and well armed.

The Separatist Strongholds were also widely thought to be a myth. The mystery deepened for any intelligence professional looking into the matter, because even queries of computer databases which touched upon the information were highly restricted. Restricted to a level that had not been previously known to exist.

Through one of Armand Isard's mistresses, Rebel spies had tried to use his terminal to access the information on the Separatists. Not even the Imperial Intelligence director, very recently deceased, had had access. It may have been that the attempt had caused his enigmatic and abrupt termination. The level of access to such information indicated that it was important, perhaps even restricted to only the Emperor, personally, and his advisers.

Hence the puzzling situation in which Borsk now found himself. Just under two weeks ago, one of the more….troublesome…and loud…rebel cells codenamed Phoenix reported that Fulcrum had been lost or compromised. The report indicated the personal involvement of two Sith including Darth Vader himself. Days later, Fulcrum, on an imperial frequency, reported in claiming to have information on Clone Wars droids and Separatist Strongholds. However the report contained all the proper authentication signals and subroutines. It also was not unusual for the Rebellion to deal with Imperial sympathizers, traitors and spies.

The new message from Fulcrum promised everything that Rebel Intelligence was desperate to learn about. But perhaps it was too good to be true? It felt funny. On the other hand, Fulcrum and Phoenix both had jedi, who all possessed a truly uncanny luck to be in the middle of everything and to deliver the goods against impossible odds. Fey'lya's own interactions with Kai Hudorra as a young man had cemented Fey'lya's belief that Jedi were amazing, capable, and very frustrating.

Fey'lya had decided that the Rebellion could not afford to pass up the opportunity, although he wrote a short risk assessment noting the extraordinarily high risk of a trap. One of the very few someones above him could make that decision. With a quick key stroke, Fey'lya passed the message onto a relay station which would disguise the message's ultimate destination—the secret rebel base on Yavin Four.

Part of the message, dealing with face-to-face contact with an important message-bearer could not wait for the Rebel High Command or the Council. Thinking about compartmentalization and the limited rebel resources he was aware, Borsk opted to have the Spynet handle this.

Flipping on the screen and entering a communication chip, Borsk waited for the terminal to connect his call. With a tight smile of irony, Borsk was eager to talk to an old and reliable, if expensive contact of the Spynet's. Upon hearing the gravelly voice of Cad Bane grind out "What," Borsk thought—this might be interesting.

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On Tatooine, a lone figure walked through the desert in a heavy hooded robe, seemingly unbothered by the oppressive sun. Upon approaching the door to Jabba's Palace, a wave of the hand caused a blank look on the face of the Gamorrean guard sergeant. The sergeant opted to present the figure to his Majesty's majordomo, Bib Fortuna. Walking through the labyrinthine corridors, the sergeant realized he couldn't remember frisking the hooded figure for weapons. He thought about doing so at the junction in the corridor, but that thought was quickly discarded as impolite. The sergeant spent the rest of the walk pondering when he had ever been concerned about being polite.

"What is it now, Grimes" the Twiliek hissed at the particularly fat sergeant of the guard.

"Dis guy says he's gotta see you," replied the Sergeant.

"Who is he?"

"Don't know."

"Did you ask?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Seemed rude. He was very nice."

The majordomo palmed his face for a moment before asking "Well, what does he want?"

"To see da boss."

"About what, you fat piece of bantha poodoo?"

"He didn't say."

"Did you ask," the frustrated Twiliek asked.

"Of course. But he didn't wanna say."

"I swear Grimes, it would be easier to replace you with an electronic eye…"

At this point the figure, who had patiently waited, said in a cultured but clipped accent, "the Mighty Jabba owes me a debt and I need to collect."

"Be careful stranger," the Twiliek warned, "Jabba Desilijic does not owe debts to people; people owe debts to him and they sometimes pay with their lives."

"Will you let me see him, or shall I kill my way to his lounge?" the hooded one asked.

Alarmed the Twiliek turned half an eye to Grimes and asked, "Didn't you frisk him?"

"No, that would have been impolite," said the Sergeant.

"You are definitely going to be replaced," the majordomo snapped at Grimes before turning back to the stranger and saying, "Fine, come. If you die I will be entertained. If you kill him, I'll be rich. Do you as will stranger, follow me at your own risk."

The Sergeant and the figure followed Fortuna out of his office and out to Jabba's Lounge.

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In the depths of the ancient Sith stronghold of Dromund Kaas, an ambitious Dark Jedi named Jerec was humbling himself. Coming to a former glory world of the Ancient Sith Empire, raised by the Republic several times over the millennia, the world remained strong in the Force. The entire planet was now a highly classified outpost of the Empire's, following the victory of Asajj Ventress in the Clone Wars. Most prominently, the world hosted Kadann and his Prophets of the Dark Side.

Although the Prophets had a base on a space station in a system much more convenient to the galactic core, Kadann had refused to meet Jerec there, insisting that he come to Dromund Kaas. Jerec could only assume that it was related to the portents of the conversation they were about to have. Jerec was going to get the Prophet's views on the galaxy and Jerec's own ambition to rule using the ancient valley of the Jedi.

Hours later, Jerec stalked out as white as a sheet. He was told that he would, a decade hence, find the Valley and that in some future realities he won, but that in most he lost. Dismissed were his complaints about the many and unorganized dark side force users in the Empire: Dark Lords of the Sith, Inquisitorius, the Secret Order of the Empire, the Emperor's Hands, the Eyes, the Shadow Guards, the Imperial Sentinels, and the Sith Acolytes. Jerec had a dream of an organized and structured hierarchy of dark side users to serve as the backbone of a new Sith Empire. Jerec had long felt that the Empire had many competing administrative fiefdoms, separate and working as cross-purposes. In this regard, the Empire was little more than the corrupt, decadent and inefficient Republic with a new title slapped on the office of Supreme Chancellor. Jerec dreamed of the Sith Empires of yore. Apparently the Emperor had similar plans and was avidly working on it.

So too did Jerec learn that in most future realities the Emperor died within 5 years. And in almost all the new Superweapon was destroyed. Jerec was warned by the Prophet to not step foot upon the "Death Star" as the Superweapon was called, or so Kadann said. In sum, Jerec was told that this was not his time, if his time ever came, and that he was not ready.

Kadann had complemented the Miralukan on his skills in the Force, but promptly warned him that he was a poor politician and schemer. Humiliated that he was told he was not prepared to deal with claimants like Trioculous, Sate Prestage, and Carnor Jax, Jerec slunk back to his shuttle.

It was only in hyperspace that he realized that the Prophet did not say a single word about Lord Vader. That thought gave new insight to the statement that the Death Star was a "shatterpoint" and that more unlikely realities were coming closer to the veil…


End file.
